


Weight of the World (small in your hands)

by RighteousMaximus



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: F/M, Mid-Canon, Post-Canon, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-11-01 22:33:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10931382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RighteousMaximus/pseuds/RighteousMaximus
Summary: After Echoes, Alm and Celica build a life and make a new kingdom.  One Kingdom.(Short snippets of post game stuff I've thought of.  Contains super spoilers for a game not out in the states yet.  Will add more when I can.)  I wrote this before it came out in the states, so.





	1. Chapter 1

There’s a rush of movement and Alm feels Falchion go through Celica’s stomach when he wakes up in a panic, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

It’s just a dream.

Just...a dream.  

The rocking of the ship lulls him into complacency, as does Celica’s breathing from beside him.  They’re returning from Archanea, having stopped Forneus’s schemes involving the construct...whatever it was.  But, it still fell, and now, it’s time to go back home.  

Home.

Gods, Alm thinks (and isn’t that a laugh), what is he going to do?

“Alm?” Celica wakes up briefly, but it’s slurred, so it sounds more like “aarmm?”

“Go back to sleep, Celica.  It’s alright,” Alm rubs her bare shoulder peeking from the blanket, but she pulls herself up to wrap herself around her beloved.

“Only with you,” she mumbles and pulls them back down to the mattress.

“Were you dreaming again?” She asks before sleep overtakes them both, Alm’s eyes wide open.

“Yeah.”

“It’s not...your fault,” Celica yawns and presses her forehead into the crook of Alm’s neck, breathing into his skin.  “Just...be happy we’re here.  Together.”  Her right hand lays atop Alm’s left, Brands touching and Alm falls asleep.

* * *

It’s almost shameful, Alm thinks.  Before he and Celica can get married, make their One Kingdom more than just words shared over a bed or a table, they go back to Rigel and Zofia, become Emperor Albein Rudolf and Queen Anthiese again.  Even with her gone, Alm can feel her presence, watching over him.  

Mycen never prepared Alm for Rigelian court or manners; what patriotic Zofian youth would have need for it?  And he can’t help that he’s left-handed, and watching the court titter and switch which hand they hold their knives at the table is a little funny.  But Zeke is always there behind Alm, there for a whispered word of learning.  He explains not only how Alm messes up, but why.  It helps Alm remember more.  Celica also knows.  She knows a lot, Alm muses as he sits at court, listening to the grumbling nobles.  

* * *

A few months after returning from Archanea, letters start coming to Valentia.  Word from continents like Jugdral and Archanea, letters direct from Emperors Hardin and Arvis themselves!  Alm paces back and forth as he reads them to Celica as she sits in his bed (their bed, soon, hopefully).

“Listen to this, Celica.  Hardin compliments our ‘tact and bravery’, and is eager to ally with in the future!  And Emperor Arvis says that we should be proud of what we’ve done!  Can you believe it?”

“You know how adorable you are when you act like this?” Celica has a twinkle in her eyes, and Alm flushes heavily.

* * *

With a shaky hand, Alm signs his letters and acts “Albein Rudolf, of Rigel.”  That’s not him.  That’s not who he’s going to be, once his wedding happens.  He’s content with a ring on her finger - the memento Berkut dropped (and isn’t that a sad thought, but he banishes it quickly), but they both want more.  He can’t help himself.

"Milord, please refer to Chancellor Mycen as such in the next council meeting, if you do not mind," Massena walks up behind Alm and Alm knows he's bowing as he speaks.

Yeah, calling Mycen "grandpa" or "grandpapa" probably isn't the right move in front of judgmental Rigelian nobles.  But whatever.  Thinking quickly, he writes on a piece of paper, the ink of the pen bleeding onto his hand.  He stamps it firmly and brandishes it to Massena.  The general reads aloud, "by...decree of Albein Rudolf the second, I induct...general Mycen into the royal house?  Your highness - "

" _Now_ he's my grandpa."

Celica laughs (she’s not there but she knows,) but she knows he’s right.  That’s what they’re supposed to be doing - separating right from _right_ , what’s actually good and what’s been done for centuries, following the gods.  

* * *

But things seem to be settling down, a bit.  Jesse leads Dean, Saber and Kamui to start their own kingdom, “Freeman’s Land”.  Alm promises aid if they need it and with Celica’s help (she knows them better than he does), they establish trade with Rigel and Zofia, borders and leylines for the mages to route their magic.  Silque eventually goes with them with Genny in tow, Nomah creates a church that has thousands of followers, and the knights join the army.  

Faye goes back to Ram Village, and Mae and Boey are already expecting their first child.  Kliff leaves for a land with no name, only leaving a letter behind.  Tobin and Gray settle into the castle as Alm’s guards, Clair hesitantly following.  Clive and Mathilda move to Rigel and Delthea and Luthier scheme and plan their wedding (it’s more Delthea who cackles at her plans, Luthier just looks annoyed).  Sonya sends letters frequently from across the continent, and Celica smiles whenever she reads them.  Atlas goes home, and things settle down.

Of course, it’s a little uncomfortable in the castle. Tobin and Gray stop their jokes mid-sentence, and Gray and Clair’s relationship stumbles in his presence.

“It’s just me!  I haven’t changed!” Alm wants to yell, but he can’t.

* * *

Alm’s never really had an older brother or father figure before - it was just him, Mycen, and the other Ram villagers that flitted about with him.  So when Conrad - senator Conrad, next in line for the Chancellor, Celica’s _older brother_ , wants to talk to him, Alm panics.  A bit.  Celica knows, though.

“He’s just my older brother, dear,” she places a comforting hand in his as he stands outside Conrad’s office at Zofia castle.  “Nothing to be afraid of.”

“I’ve seen your brother take down necrodragons single-handedly.”

“And you’ve defeated not one but two gods.  It’ll be fine.”

Alm swallows and grips Celica’s hand a bit tighter.  

“Come in,” Conrad’s voice echoes through his door and Celica lets go and pushes Alm forward, a cat-like grin on her lips.  “Good luck!”

“Ah, come in, your highness,” Conrad doesn’t look up as he works, gesturing for Alm to come closer.  “Take a seat.”

“Senator Conrad.  Good to see you.  How are you doing?”

“I’m well, thanks.  But that’s not the point of you being here.  The point of you being here is thus - what are your intentions with my sister?”

Oh gods, he’s getting the shovel talk.  Like Mycen hadn’t drilled courtly behavior into his head.

“Once we settle all state and international relations, I plan on marrying her.  We’re already engaged with a ring, you see.”

“I see.  Good.  I imagine Sir Clive helped with the process?”

“A bit.”

“Good.  Good.  I just want to make something clear,” Conrad looks up into Alm’s eyes and his tone drops into something serious and dark, his ‘masked knight’ persona if Alm had to guess.  “If you hurt my sister, I won’t be the one coming for you first.   _She_ will.  And she will make it painful.”

“I don’t plan on it,” Alm crosses his arms almost petulantly, like a child.  “I love her with all my heart.  I have no plans on breaking her heart.”

Conrad smiles, and he has the same lines on his face Celica does.  “That’s good to know.  Now, out.  I have important matters to attend to.”

Alm laughs and leaves Conrad's office, Celica slipping a hand through his arm as she leads him to her quarters.

* * *

Celica notices it first - she’s always been the more observant of the two, she likes to quip.  The refugees.  They first come in from the west, from Jugdral, they say.  A dark cult taking and killing children and all who resist.  Then, they come from the east, from Archanea, they say.  Emperor Hardin has gone mad and rebellion has sprung up.  When Alm reads the second notice, Zeke tenses up and bows his head.

“I beg a leave of absence, your highness.”

“Why?  Is it because of what’s happening in Archanea?”

“Yes...somewhat.”

“Ah, I get it,” Alm leans back in his chair.  Like him, Zeke has a partner and companion in Tatiana, like he does with Celica.  “How else am I going to learn things without you here?”

Zeke smiles wryly and secures his lance.  “I’m sure you’ll survive.  After all, you’re getting married soon, are you not?”

* * *

It happens at Clive and Mathilda’s wedding.  It’s a lovely ceremony presided by Tatiana, and at the reception it’s delightful.  At the main table, Clive attempts to feed Mathilda wedding cake and gets it all over her face.  The newlyweds laugh and Alm does too, from where he dances with Celica.  The band is playing a piece he’s never heard directly - only from Mycen humming or whistling - it's 'over the floral hills', a traditional wedding piece.

“What is it?” Celica smiles up at him.  “Usually you’re scowling when we dance.  Because you’re terrible at it.” It’s true, but it doesn’t make it hurt less.

“Nah, just looking at Clive and Mathilda.  I was witness to their battlefield flirting - it was gross.  To see them happily married, well, it makes me happy as well.”

“Well...good.  Do you see us doing that soon?”

Alm leans down to whisper in her ear, "more than anything."

The two spin together for a few minutes more, and as the band finishes the song, a page comes up to the couple.

“I have a message for you, your highness.”

Alm glares so hard that Celica could swear the page could catch on fire.

“What is it?” He snaps and walks arm-in-arm with Celica off the dance floor, the page trailing behind.

“We have a massive influx of refugees heading towards our ports.  They are estimated to arrive in the next day or two.”

Gods above.

* * *

Word is...not good.  The refugees from Jugdral talk more about these child hunts and the Loptyrian cults, and a ‘Scion of Light’ rising up to combat them.  The refugees from Archanea talk about the total chaos that has engulfed the continent, how Emperor Hardin has gone mad.  Alm pens quick letters to both Arvis and Hardin, asking if he can send supplies, troops, anything.

The refugees arrive and further wedding plans are pushed back, too much work to do.  With the gods gone the land continues to grow, but with several hundred (the most recent report says over a thousand now), they struggle to find food and shelter for everyone.  Lukas suggests using the old Deliverance headquarters and refugees start moving there, and soon past dungeons are being cleared out and housing refugees.

In the meantime, Celica and Tatiana don’t become friends...they become people who drink tea together and talk about their lives.  It’s quite sweet to see, and Alm bristles as nobles protest, asking for a replacement for General Zeke.  Alm bites his tongue and bides his time.

* * *

Finally, after more than a year of sending letters and dealing with citizenship, Zeke returns with news of the war in Archanea’s end, and a letter from Emperor Seliph states that they are doing well.  It’s accompanied by a King Leif of Thracia and his bride, Nanna.  Alm is more than proud to present Zeke back to the dismissive nobles, certain that Tatiana can patch him up.  Alm and Leif seem to get along fine, sharing war stories quickly as Celica coos over Nanna’s baby daughter.

“Look at her cute little eyes and toes!”  Celica gushes as the baby grabs her finger.  It’s a strong grip, and when Celica says so, Nanna laughs.

“Of course it is!  She’s got Hezul’s blood in her.”

Now, Celica knows about the Jugdrali gods and bloodlines.  There were books from all over the world in Novis Priory, after all.

“So,” Nanna says conspiratorially, “when’s the baby?”

Celica blushes, “We haven’t gotten married yet!  Let alone thinking about a baby.”

“Well,” Nanna winks, “if you need any tips on the sex - “

“Nope.  Stopping you right there.”

* * *

"Your highness, my name is King Leif of Thracia.  I bring good tidings from Jugdral."   Leif sweeps into Alm's study, having left Nanna with Celica.

"Ah, King Lief!  I am...Emperor Albein Rudolf, but please, call me Alm."

"Alm?  That's a good name."  Leef sits on the chair opposite Alm, and almost carelessly adjusts the sword on his belt.  Alm isn't a moron and can tell it's a magic weapon, almost like a thunder sword, but not.

"As is yours.  What bring you here?  I read the letter, but why come here?"  Alm leans forward so his elbows rest on his desk, and he feels the heavy weight of his crown.

"Emperor Seliph wants to expand our trade and boundaries, create friendships across waters.  We've both noticed it in our wars; friends make us stronger.  How does that song go?  'Together we ride'?"

Alm joins in with Leif as they hum the first few bars, apparently recognizable across the globe.  Alm notes Leif has a trill to his letters, and when a messenger comes in and speaks what must be Thracian to his lord, Alm recognizes that must be the accent.

"Is something the matter?" Alm inquires.

"It's nothing.  Isabelle must be acting up again, so Nanna needs me.  One moment, my lord."

"I insist, call me Alm."

"Only if you call me Leif," the Thracian has an unmistakeable grin on his face, untempered by the two wars he's lead.

* * *

Finally, after Tatiana nearly breaks her staff over her love’s head a few times and Zeke is all patched up, he finally discusses what happened.

“Were you able to help?”  Alm broaches.  He and Celica are arm-in-arm across from the general as he peers into a mug and drains it in one go.

“...In a sense.  Let me start from the beginning.  It involves a man named Camus, a woman named Nyna, and a treasure we called the 'Fire Emblem'.”

And so Zeke begins his tale, spanning years and years.  Eventually, Zeke wraps up his story, and Alm and Celica tremble.  It’s a tale of sorrow and despair, yet also of hope.  It is not a tale of fighting the gods and winning, but of yielding to their decree, and Alm’s blood burns hot and cold at the same time.  But there is love, between Marth and Caeda, of the missed kindness of Camus and Nyna, Hardin's twisted obsession that lead to his demise.

Alm thinks to himself about what he's done, who he has killed.  Why?  To end the reign of the gods?  His war - Valentia’s war - did exactly what Rudolf wanted, when he gave Alm away all those years ago, and when Alm saw it through Mila's Turnwheel.  It brought heroes into the world and cleansed and healed, yet when Zeke talks about King Marth and Caeda and the three pegasus knights who fought with Celica, his heart breaks.

“But don’t worry, your highness.”

Alm looks up to his general, and he smiles up above Alm.  He turns, and there is Tatiana, stepping forward to wrap an arm around Zeke’s waist.  He presses a gentle kiss to the crown of her head and she laughs that bright sunshine laugh.

“You don’t need to change.  Just be you, Alm.”

* * *

It’s a day like any other - maybe two years after Alm learned the truth of his heritage.  On that day, the wedding still an invisible day in the sometime future, Celica leaves a note near Alm’s lunch.  He reads swiftly and stands abruptly, chair going back a foot.

“Your highness?”  A nearby servant asks, “is the food not to your liking?”

“It’s fine, Alec,” Alm secures his sword and crown, and dashes out, “just an emergency!”

When he gets to his room, Celica is there, with a smile.

“You might want to sit down, Alm.”

"What?  Why?"

"I'm pregnant.  It's yours."

Alm feels his brand pulse with his heartbeat and blood rushes to his ears.

He’s...going to be a father?

* * *

“And what if he - ”

“Or she,”

“Or she, thank you, is just like me?  I was a terrible child!  I don’t know how to father anyone!  My own was...what if turn into my father?”

“Alm.”  Celica snaps him out of his focus, and he turns to look at her.

“It’s going to be fine.  But at least we can have the wedding soon.”

He smiles, and he wonders what he ever could have done without her.

* * *

“I always thought one day I’d be able to do this,” Mycen murmurs, still in his armor.  He and Celica are arm-in-arm, a small bump rounding Celica’s stomach.  She’s resplendent in a pure white dress; it is her wedding, after all.  In the distance she can see Alm in his suit with Nomah at the altar, Tobin and Gray as his best men.  In the stands are all their friends and allies; ambassadors from Freeman’s Land, all the knights in the regiments, everyone.  Delthea is a bit old to be the flower girl, but what can they do?  Boey and Mae’s children are too young, only a year or two old.  They’re here as well, since Mae is Celica’s maid of honor, who is standing at the altar across from Tobin and Gray.

“I’ve always wanted to give you away, my dear.  And now I can.”  Mycen discretely rubs at his eye, and he can tell Celica saw from the way her lips quirk up.

“Thank you...grandfather.”  And then the music starts up, and they are walking down the aisle, as everyone oohs and aahs.  Celica doesn’t know if it takes a year or a second to reach the altar and Mycen trails away she ascends it.  Alm’s speechless and his jaw is on the floor, Gray and Tobin nudge each other, and Mae is already on the verge of tears.

“Welcome,” Nomah’s voice booms as Celica and Alm face each other.  ‘You look stunning,’ Alm mouths, and Celica beams.

“Welcome, everyone.  We are gathered here today in matrimony to wed and crown our new sovereigns of One Kingdom - Alm and Celica.”

That’s right, Alm thinks.  He’s not going to be King Albein Rudolf et cetera et cetera of Valentia - he will be King Alm I.  Neither Alm nor Celica are paying attention until Nomah says it’s time to say the vows, and Alm starts.

“Celica, we’ve known each other since we were six or seven, and since then I’ve always thought of you.  I’ve been in love with you for years, and here we are.  I will dedicate my entire life and heart to you and only you, if you would accept it.  I vow to never leave you, in sickness and in health, and to always be there for you.  And no matter what happens, I promise to always stay by your side.”

“Thank you.  Celica?”  Nomah has a light in his eyes that’s always been there, Celica knows.  But today, it seems a bit brighter.  Hearing Mae let out a short sniffle, Celica starts.

“Alm...we’ve been through a lot.  I couldn’t tell you how hurt I was when we finally met after seven years and yelled at you.  It broke my heart.  But even through that, and through everything we’ve done, we’ve been together.  I’ve been in love with you since the day I saw you, and my heart is yours - if you say yes.”  Alm is now tearing up, and he squeezes their linked hands harder.

“So I vow to love you and cherish you for all my days.  Now and forever.”

“Thank you,” Nomah bows and his staff thuds against the ground.  “Some questions.  Albein Alm Rudolf - do you take Anthiese Lima as your lawfully wedded wife?  Do you promise to  cherish and protect her for all your days, in sickness and in health?”

“I do.”

“And you, Anthiese Lima - do you take Albein Alm Rudolf as your lawfully wedded husband?  Do you promise to cherish and protect him for all your days, in sickness and in health?  I know you can protect him.  Your magic is quite potent.”  The congregation chuckles and Celica does too, with a small hiccup.  

“I do.”

“Now, we have some paperwork to fill out - joy of joys,” the congregation laughs at this.  “If I could have the best men and maid of honor sign the document.”

Tobin and Gray have a short glaring contest before Gray lets Tobin sign first, and Mae mouths ‘I’m so proud’ at Celica, who feels a tear roll down the apple of her cheek.  

“The rings, please,” Nomah gestures, and Mae and Tobin give them to the priest.  He slides them onto Alm and Celica’s fingers, and they link hands again.  “Now, would you please sign the document, and accept your crown as ruler of Valentia?”  Alm lets go with one hand and shakily signs the document, passing the quill to Celica as tears run down her face.  They’re honestly both crying.  They then get to their knees, and Nomah places crowns on their heads, and bids them to rise.

“I am more than proud to crown you as King Alm I and Queen Celica of the One Kingdom.  Alm - you may kiss the bride.”  

He brushes the veil away from Celica’s face, wipes the salty tear-tracks with the pad of his thumb, and smiles.  

And then they kiss.  Celica wraps her arms around Alm’s neck like they’re a puzzle piece fitting together, and Alm becomes bold, dipping her back.  Eventually they come up for air and press their foreheads together, laughing.  

They’ve done it.

* * *

“I honestly can’t believe it.”

It’s the reception, and Alm is still terrible at dancing.

“Believe what, Alm?”

“That we’re married.  That now I can do this,” he bends down to kiss her on the mouth solidly as they spin, “whenever I want.”

“Cheeky, hmm?”

“And maybe a little protective.  After all, I’ve got two people I need to protect.”

“Oh, Alm.  Have you thought of names?”

“Isn’t that more your responsibility?”

“Well, you should have an input.”

“Hmm.  Well, I don’t want to keep the name ‘Rudolf’ in the line.  But if it’s the boy I was thinking...Mycen.”

“I like it.  And if it’s a girl?”

“What about Eve?  Back in Ram Village, Eve was a common name that indicated a great future.”

“I think it’s a lovely name.”

And so it is.  And Tobin and Gray settle in, and Gray and Clair iron out their relationship, and Zeke and Tatiana are back together, and everything seems...right.   _Right._

* * *

Waking up in the morning as a married couple is a lot different than as an unmarried couple.  Only last time it was whispered words and either Alm or Celica sneaking back to their guest rooms as dawn breaks, a sneaky kiss before court.  Now, it's sour heat and sunlight through the blinds, muttered demands for more blanket.  Waking up holding hands and legs entwined in a braid.  Aside from the morning breath Celica smells how she always does, like holy fire and mint, her light red hair getting everywhere.  The comforter feels as light as cloud as Alm dozes in and out of sleep, Celica a comfortable presence at his side.

He wakes up later to feel a hand card through his hair, his head in Celica's lap.

"Morning," Alm mumbles as he pulls her hand down to kiss her palm, right on her Brand.

"Morning, Alm.  Sleep well?"

"Always with you," Alm clambers up to capture her lips in a kiss, slowly and leisurely.  His hands knot in her hair and he deepens the kiss, Celica sighing.  Suddenly she breaks away and gasps.

"What is it?"

She smiles, and her eyes glow.  "Someone's saying hello."

Alm's eyes go wide and he slides down to place an ear to Celica's belly, where he feels someone thump against the wall.

"Hey there, son."

"Daughter."

"Daughter?"

"One thousand years of daughters, and the chain isn't going to break."

"Why'd you let me think it might be a boy?"

Celica lifts a hand to cover her mouth as she laughs a small chuckle.  

"Then hello, darling daughter," and a tear escapes Alm's eye.

* * *

The last Alm saw of his wife was a few hours ago when she was ushered behind doors with the clerics.  Her water had just broken, and luckily the walls were thick enough that he couldn’t hear her screams.  If he did, he’d charge in there.

“Your highness.”  Alm turns and Clive is there, sitting down next to him outside.

“Sir Clive.  Good to see you.  What brings you here?”

“Just here to see an old friend.  Was considering going down to the old Tower of Duma to lay a wreath for Fernand.  It was hard for me when Mathilda gave birth to our son, and I’m here to support you if you need it.”

“Thank you.”

The two men sit in silence until a nursemaid opens the door, a tired but happy smile on her face.

“The queen has given birth to a healthy baby girl that will be called Eve.  Her highness asked to see you, your highness.”

Clive pats Alm on the back, “Congratulations, Alm.  You’re a father.  Best of luck.”

Alm stands up and gestures for the nursemaid to lead the way, which she does.

* * *

“Hey, Celica.”

“Alm.  Would you like to meet our daughter?”  There in Celica’s arms is a small bundle of blanket, but he can see a small mop of blue-green hair.  He walks over to sit in the chair next to the bed, reaching a finger out to his daughter.  She instinctively reaches out and grabs for it, surprising him with her speed and strength.

“Seems she got her father’s strength.”

“And without a doubt her mother’s kindness and magic.”

They sit in silence for a moment, enjoying the quiet.

“Would you like to hold her?”  Celica extends the blanket towards him, but he panics and raises his hands.

“I...I shouldn’t.  What if I drop her?”

Celica laughs, “don’t be silly, Alm.  Here, like this, supporting the head and neck.”

Within seconds he is holding onto his daughter, and it feels like he’s holding the weight of the world.  Eve reaches out with both hands, and there on the top of both hands are Mila’s and Duma’s brands; on her right and left hands respectively.

“Hello, Eve,” Alm stutters, unnatural for him.  He’s conquered gods and monsters, yet is brought low by his daughter.  “I’m your father, and it’s so very nice to meet you.”

Eventually she begins to cry, and Alm hands her back over to her mother.

He wonders how his father could do it - base all his plans on a small bundle of blanket and hair, so sure that a tiny mark on a hand would ensure the continent’s fate.  His father was mad, probably.  Almost as much as Hardin was, presumably.  But then he looks up from his doldrums and Celica is smiling at him, so full of hope and happiness and _life_.  She understands.  Always has.  Always will.

And in a land where people can build their own destinies free of gods or fate, a loving couple coo over their newborn child, a symbol of life and hope for the world.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a bit more, focusing on Eve, Alm and Celica's daughter. Again, contains spoilers for a game that came out a few days ago.

"Lady Eve!  Lady Eve!"  A guard calls down the hallway as the girl toddles away.  She wants to say hi to daddy and mommy even though grampy said no.  But she's a princess!  And grampy's an old man anyway.  What does he know.

"Lord Mycen, have you seen her highness?"  At this, Eve ducks behind a statue of metal and peeks around.  Unknown to her, Mycen can see her easily.  He might be seventy years old, but he can tell wherever his great-granddaughter is.  Eve's blue-green hair shines from behind a statue of armor, but Mycen pretends to ignore it.

"No, I haven't," he crosses his arms and frowns.  "Why?"

"Well, my lord, she ran off from her tutors and we can't find her.  Besides, the ambassadors from Freeman's Land are here, and we could have a political scandal!"  The guard panics and the Gold Knight lays a hand on his shoulder.  "Peace, James.  If it's the same ambassadors, I'm sure Sir Dean and Sir Saber will understand.  They're good friends of her royal highness, of course."

"Yes, Lord Mycen.  Anyway, please let me know if you spot her."  The guard bows and sprints away, hollering for Eve.  She gasps as Mycen walks by innocently, only to look her directly in the eyes and wink.

"So, your highness.  What are you learning that you so desperately want to get away from?"

"Sums," Eve wrinkles her nose, "I'm good at it, I swear grampy, but I want to learn more about swords and magic!"

"Swords and magic, eh?  Just like your mother, you are."

"But I wanna learn swords from you!  Like daddy!"

"Oh?"  Mycen lifts her into his arms and settles her onto his hip.  Only at four years old, and already a fast learner with her little wooden sword and capable of making little fires.  Her tutors thought she was a nightmare in child form, but the aging knight thought otherwise.

"Yeah!  Daddy told me you trained him, and he's the best sworder ever!"

"Swordsman, your highness."

"Whatever, grampy."

"Alright, alright.  Let's go practice for a bit and then drop by your parents.  How about that?"

"Yay!  Thanks grampy!  But can't you call me by my name just once?"

"Of course not, your highness."

* * *

"Your highness?  Are you paying attention?"

"Would it be better if I was honest?"  

Alm snickers and Celica smacks him on the arm.  "What?  It's better if she's honest, I'd say."

"Alm!"

Eve snickers from her seat at her desk, and Alm and Celica share a look over their daughter's head.

"Your highnesses, here's the deal - I can't teach her if she's not here.  Yes, I know it's important for her to learn fighting, but an education is crucial in this world.  With expanding borders and trade across continents, it's important to have a well-rounded education.  Look, she's clearly lacking in it!"

"She's ten, though!"  Alm scowls.

"So?  Your highness, who are the twelve gods of Jugdral?"  The tutor looks expectantly at the princess, clearly looking like she's not supposed to know.  But without a second, she goes:

"Naga, Baldur, Hezul, Noba, Odo, Dain, Neir, Ulir, Fala, Tordo, Forseti, Blaggi, and technically, Loptyr.  But not anymore, if recent history is to be believed.  Would you like to know who the current holy blood wielders are?  Naga has Seraph, Baldur has Vylona, Hezul has Claudia - "

She stops as Celica starts laughing, her polite noblewoman's laugh that she hides behind one hand.

"Mother?"

"Goodness!  You just sounded just like me when I was learning history when I was your age."

"I didn't learn history, mind you, but it sounded wonderful," Alm contributes and a stray arm wraps around his wife's waist.

"I don't think that's helping," Celica giggles into his neck, and Eve pretends to gag.

* * *

"Eve?"  The family is sitting in a small parlor in the castle, and the moon shines faintly overhead.  The fire is roaring on the cold winter night, and Eve is now twelve.

"Are you happy?" Her mother asks, looking up from her book.  She's reading it with one hand, her other linked with Alm's as he reads reports and memos from Zeke and Massena.  

"With what?"  Eve looks up to meet her mother's gaze, setting down her letter.  

"With life.  I know you don't have a lot of friends, and neither your father nor I grew up as royalty.  As you know, Alm grew up in the rural south, and I grew up in a priory.  And while we had friends we were both lonely after I left.  So, are you happy?"

"I guess," Eve shrugs, "I'm writing to Gregory and Irene - Mae and Boey's kids?  Right now.  But I'm...happy.  It's all I know."

"Good."

There's silence for a few more moments.

"Hey, dad, mom?  Can I practice with you a bit?  I've got some questions on my stances."

Her parents beam and stand up.

"I'll get our swords," Alm smiles and Celica goes to the nearest guard and shares a few words with him.

* * *

"Come on, dad!  You're going easy on me!" Eve pushes against the blade lock she has with her father.  

"Alright," Alm grimaces and sends her to the floor with one push.  Celica scowls and runs over, running a healing hand along her daughter's body.  "You alright, dear?"

"I'm fine, mom.  That's what I needed," Eve groans and stands up, blue armor sliding smoothly.  Her armor is a lot like her father's when he fought in his war, but it's even lighter and has lighter gauntlets to aid in her spell-casting.  She's even got a cape to along with it, after two years of arguing with her parents about it.  Ever since that discussion, Eve's trained directly with her parents and their friends.  Just last week Jesse and Saber came from Freeman's Land to help her swordsmanship, and every few months she goes to Novis Priory to train under Boey, Mae and Nomah.  

"Again."  Eve settles into a ready stance, blade steady in her left hand.  Alm grins and throws his sword from one hand to another, before lunging at her with the blade in his left.  She dodges left and slaps his sword away, going in for a vertical slash.  He jumps back and goes for a horizontal strike and Eve handsprings back and goes for a short, tight combo aimed at Alm's sword hand.  Eve smiles and a flame bursts into life in her right hand and Alm frowns and backs up.

"Hey, that's not fair!" He almost whines and in his hesitation, Eve flourishes her sword and Alm's blade goes flying.

"Nothing's fair in war," Both Celica and Eve say at the same time and laugh.

* * *

"So, you thought you were going to sneak off, hmm?"  Eve squeaks and jumps, turning around.  The news from Jugdral has been troubling - a massive pirate invasion, and a possible return of a dark cult.  Even though Eve doesn't personally know the leader of the resistance, she's still going to go.  So when she hears Mycen behind her, she panics.

"Listen, it's not what you think, I'm sixteen, I'm responsible - "

"I thought you were leaving without some weapons, dear."  Mycen brandishes a bundle before him and whips the sheet off to reveal Eve's parents' swords - the Royal Sword and Beloved Zofia.

"Gran, do they know you have these?"  Eve's eyes widen.  "They're without weapons then!  What happens if - "

"You think they're defenseless?  You're going to Jugdral thinking that?  Then I'm going to have to stop you."

"Try me."  There's a fire in her eyes that Mycen's seen only a few times - once was when Rudolf handed his newborn to him so many years ago, and another was when he reunited with Alm in Rigel castle; Alm's eyes burned with that selfsame spark.  

"Hah!  You're just like your parents, both of them.  They told me to give these to you.  You're not exactly subtle, princess."

"Sue me.  I heard, and I want to go.  Are you going to stop me?"

Mycen smiles and hands the blades over, Eve holding them close to chest.  She straps the Royal Sword to her hip and slots Beloved Zofia to her back, under her cape.  Next, Mycen hands her a small package, and when Eve peels it open she sees tack and meats.  

"The food should last you a while.  I assume you're bringing money so that you can pay the sailors taking you there, right?  Hmm.  You'd best be on your best behavior, your highness.  You'll be representing Valentia and the One Kingdom over there."

"Can't you call me 'Eve' just once, gran?"

Mycen clears his throat, "Eve.  It's been an honor and a pleasure watching you grow these past sixteen years, and now you're ready.  You've perfected your swordsmanship and while I can't judge your magic, I know it's strong.  I just have one thing for you more."  Mycen reaches into his armor and pulls out a ring.  It's a simple object but well worn and well loved.  "It's enchanted, you know.  Wear it in good health."

"Thank you, gran," Eve slides it onto her finger and it's a perfect fit.  "All aboard!" A man calls from the ship and Eve crushes her great-grandfather in a tight hug and runs off.

"Goodbye, gran!  I'll see you on the other side!"

"So long, Eve.  Best of luck."

In the shadows, a flash of green hair and a flash of light red go by.

"Alm, Celica.  I know you're here."

"Grandfather - "

"Grandpa - "

Mycen laughs his deep-belly laughs and pulls them along like petulant children.

"Hey, we're not kids anymore - "

"Grandfather, unhand us at once!  We are married for gods' sake!"

"Couldn't leave well enough alone, could you?  Now you now how I felt when I heard you left Ram Village."

Alm pouts and frees his arm from Mycen's grasp, taking Celica with him.

"We're not children anymore."  

"You'll always be those whiny little brats in my eyes," Mycen growls and his descendants laugh.

* * *

Eve: Level 6 Fighter (A beautiful sword-fighter who uses magic with balanced stats)

HP: 34

Str: 14

Mag: 16

Skl: 14 (9 + 5 (Keepsake Ring))

Spd: 12

Lck: 19 (14 +  (Keepsake Ring))

Def: 7

Res: 15 (10 + 5 (Keepsake Ring))

Mov: 5

Lead: 2

Sword: A

Magic: /

Learned Magic: Fire, Thunder

Inventory: Royal Sword, Beloved Zofia, Keepsake Ring

Skills: Pursuit, Windswept (If unit initiates attack, no follow-up occurs if possible. If unit’s Spd - Foe’s Spd  ≥ 1, foe can’t counter), Vantage, Dragon Fang (Chance of adding half of Atk as damage), Guarded Stance (User has Def/Res +6 when attacked)

Holy Blood: Mila (Major, mark on top of right hand), Duma (Major, mark on top of left hand)

Help Description: Alm and Celica's daughter, traveled from across the sea.  Sensitive and enjoys puns, but can be emotionally closed off.  

Royal Sword: One of Eve's swords, her father's blade.  Meant to signify ties between Zofia and Rigel years ago.  Grants the Critical skill when equipped and increases the chance of it activating by 10%.

Beloved Zofia: One of Eve's swords, her mother's blade.  A magic weapon that held Celica's wishes for a brighter future for her country.  Grants the Critical skill when equipped and increases the chances of it activating by 10%.

Keepsake Ring: Eve's ring, a memento passed down from her father. Holds a special power.  Grants the Renewal skill and Skl/Lck/Res +5 when in user's inventory.  

Eve's magic: Eve learns spells as she levels up, that are cast from her health.  They can critical and have their own hit rate, and critical rate based off normal weapons.  (For more info, see how Black Magic works on the Fire Emblem wikia.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ye. Leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed.


	3. North and South

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To commemorate 1000+ hits here's a little chapter where Celica recruits both Deen and Sonya as referenced earlier. I'll add other chapters like this later when I have inspiration.

Before Grieth sends Deen and Sonya out to handle this kid, this girl, this  _priestess_ , the two lieutenants stop.  It's more accurate to say Sonya pulls Deen aside and talks to him.  He stares shifty-eyed at the mage as she thrusts a bonecharm into his hands, as her eyes drift to the brave sword.

"What is this?"

"It's a charm so we can talk.  Well, not  _talk_ , but know how we're doing after all."

"Want to keep an eye on me so you can kill me first?" Deen's hand strays to the hilt of his sword, and Sonya's fist glows with the magic of Excalibur.

"Something like that."

Deen tosses the charm once, twice, then twirls it around his neck.

"Alright, Sonya.  Say we both make it out of this...drinks are on me."  He extends a hand and she accepts it, and her eyes are cold, so cold - 

So are his, she notes.  Her hand slides into his, and she smiles, shark-like.

"It's a deal, Deen.  Ladies, with me," and with a flash of light she disappears, and in the distance the witches vanish.

* * *

Deen realizes that his relationship with Sonya and Grieth is somewhat...strained.  Both he and Sonya knew that Grieth had pitted them against each other; him in the north and her in the south.  If they didn't die from each other's hands, it would be someone with a grudge against Grieth that would do either of them in.  But, he didn't care.  As long as he got paid it didn't matter, exactly.  

"Hey, boss."

"What is it, Carson?"  'What is it' is slurred into one word, and Deen's scarred eye twitches.  Even after fifteen years, after his first kill, it still hurts in this gods-blasted desert.

"Seems there're people on the horizon.  Diggs came back, and it's apparently the priestess who's coming after Grieth."

Dammit.  Dammit all.

"Awright.  Get the men in position.  Good thing I pulled the men back here instead of the stronghold."

"Yessir!  You heard the man!  Get into position!"

Cries of assent litter the stiff, still desert air, and Deen hefts the brave sword.

"Seems this might be the end of the line."

Nobody asks why Deen talks to his sword.  When he talks about it, only when drunk, he'll say it belonged to the first man he killed and gave him the scarred eye.  It's the truth, for once, when he talks about his past.  Suddenly, there is a flash of light, and a girl is standing in front of him.  It's not the dark magic he knows from Sonya's witches, but of Mila's magic.  Warp?  Rewarp?  It doesn't matter.  Within a moment a bright silver blade is at his throat, and the girl's light red curls gleam in the bright summer sun.

"You must be Deen, correct?  I am Celica.  Jesse also says hello."

"Great.  You.  Ya know Grieth wants your head, right?" Deen drawls.

"Yes, I know.  Please put the sword down.  I'd just like to have a conversation."

The brave sword goes back to its sheath and Deen's eye twitches.  "Awright.  You got balls, little missy.  Let's have a little talk."

* * *

Sonya's mind wanders back, as is wont to do when she has little to do.  Despite all her efforts to save her witches, they still won't talk or respond except to her orders.  Deep in her heart she knows their only salvation is death.  But she doesn't, because that means the only option she has for her sisters is death, and thinking of that - well.  Jedah deserves far worse for his evils than most.  More so than Grieth.

He just pays her.  And who knows?  Deen is decent enough.

She remembers the first time they really met.  Not met in the sense that they were introduced as Grieth's subordinates, but met in a personal sense.  It was when Deen nearly killed another man with his fists.  After the man left in bandages, Sonya walked through the ring of dirty pirates and up to Deen.

"Why did you fight him?"

"Huh?  Why?  Because I could."

"You lie, little man."

"He said he was gonna kill ya.  Some nonsense about taking your witches.  I told 'im to stow it, and he threw a punch."  Deen is panting and leaning with his hands on his knees.  "I sure as shit ain't getting younger, I tell you what, Sonya."

"Hm.  Well, he's right.  I killed the...'owner' of my witches.  But thank you, Deen."  There is a snap of light and a bolt of magic fries the man, before he goes limp.

"Let that be a warning, everyone," Sonya always appears perfect, makeup perfectly applied, balanced perfectly on her heels.  "Anyone who tries to end me will face my might.  So, have a good night, all of you."  With a sweep of an arm she walks away, and Deem sighs deeply.

"Neither I or Grieth pay you lackwits to stare 'round!  Back to work, and clean him up!"

* * *

Sonya's eyes snap open when she hears the telltale sound of one of her witches teleporting next to her.  One of Grieth's men runs up next to the witch and pants heavily.  Sonya smiles at the witch and pats her head, but she does not respond except to teleport next to the other witches.

"What is it?"

"Ma'am!  Reports say the girl Grieth wants is approaching.  But that's not all...it seems Deen's with them!"

"Really?"  Sonya feels for the bonecharm and it feels warm through her glove.  Means the scout is telling the truth, Deen does still live.  "Is he a hostage?"

"No ma'am, he still has his blade."

"Hmm.  We'll parley with them, then, if Deen has been so agreeable."

"Of course."

* * *

"So, we meet again, Deen."  The girl, Celica is standing next to her fellow lieutenant as Sonya walks up to them.  Her eyes scan over the girl's companions.  It's quite an array of faces, from the easily recognizable Valbar the Impregnable, Jesse 'Steel in the Sands', the one-eyed Saber and even two of Archanea's Whitewings.  She knows why they're here.

"I see you've brought the Whitewings with you, too.  I'm happy to let you know your sister is safe for now.  As long as Grieth doesn't recognize you, she'll be fine."

"Oh thank goodness!" The green-hair bows, and the blue-hair smiles.  

"So we meet again, Sonya," Deen steps forward and shows the bonecharm.  "Still alive."

"Mm.  So, what brings you to this neck of the desert?  Makes sense to just head straight to Grieth's place."

"Wanted to come by, get you to sign on."

"Really?  Why would I accept?" Sonya crosses her arms over her chest, and Deen smiles as her witches do likewise.

"Because we both know neither of us have any love for our employer besides cash.  Besides, we're mercenaries.  Support the highest bidder, and I like livin'.  You in?"

Sonya smiles, sadly, then nods.  "I am.  However, girl, how do you feel about witches?"  Celica's face goes white and a pink-haired girl rushes up to comfort her.  "I see.  One moment."  Sonya turns around and snaps her fingers, her witches gathering close.

"Can I set you free?  No.  I cannot.  I am sorry, dears, that this happened to you.  But I must harden my heart."  Sonya draws a blade and holds each witch to her chest before slitting their throats.  Blood drips down her gloves, and Deen imagines the same going down his.  They hear one of the girl's friends, the brawny one in the vest puke into the sands as she does her grim work.

"Now.  I am Sonya, and you must be Celica.  Grieth is looking for you.  Shall we?  I have a plan to get in.  Deen and I will pretend to have kidnapped you, then we'll take out Grieth.  Sound good?"

"Works for me?" Celica shrugs and Saber steps forward.

"Just 'cause it sounds good to you doesn't mean it sounds good to me, lass."

"Yeah," a white-haired mage steps forward as well.  "I don't like this, Lady Celica."

"Everyone...I'll be fine.  I'm strong myself.  And I trust our two new companions.  Right?"  Celica smiles as she looks at Deen and Sonya, these two mercenaries and lost souls with too much blood on their hands.

"Right," they say at the same time, and grin.

* * *

After the grim business is done (Deen and Sonya did Grieth in themselves, the brave sword in the gut and an Excalibur through the throat) Deen and Sonya stand on the balcony where they first met.

"You goin' with the girl north?  On her quest or whatever?"  Deen ventures.

Sonya bats one of her earrings, "I don't have anything else to do.  Might as well see if I can find a cure for witches."  They both now know the answer to that question is no, but Deen lets her have this.

"Mm.  Well, it'll be good to have a familiar face around, right, Sonya?"  Their eyes lock, and Sonya smiles.  It's not the one she smiled when they first met, or when she killed that man, but it's kind.

"Too true."

* * *

Deen rubs Sonya's back as she cries into her hands.

"It's alright, Sonya.  You'll get him."

"I was right there, Deen!  I almost killed that dastard Jedah!"

"Jedah, huh?  Isn't he your father?"

"Not anymore.  He turned my sisters into witches!  Cursed them!"

"..."

"And he says it was a  _blessing_.  That  _I_ am the burden!  I will take their due in his blood!"

"It must be nice, having a family."

"Huh?"

"I grew up on my own.  Killed my first at fifteen.  At least you had them.  So just remember the good times, and get your closure out of that gross man's hide.  Understand?"

"Yes.  Thank you, Deen.  You're a good friend."

"You too, Sonya.  Let's see this thing to the end."

Sonya smiled at him, wiped her running makeup off and stood up tall.

"Let's see this thing through, and then, we'll test each other.  Let's see who is the strongest!"

"Now you're talkin' my language, Sonya."

* * *

After it was all over, they did have their duel.  They had just gone blade-to-blade when Eve had stumbled into the room, toddling quickly toward her Aunt Sonya and Uncle Deen.  They quickly sheathed their blades as Sonya moved to pick up the toddler, balancing her on her hip.

"Well hello, little one.  What brings you here?"

Eve looked curiously at her before turning to look at Deen who had walked closer.  Eve went to grab at his hair but he jerked back, Sonya laughing.

"Grandpappy's looking for me and I came in here.  What're you doing?"  Eve looks expectantly up as Celica rushes in, Mycen on her heels.

"Oh, Eve, don't run off like that!  I'm so sorry, Sonya.  You too, Deen.  What are you doing in here anyway?"

"Practice," they both say and stare.  

"Really?"  Celica quirks an eyebrow as she takes Eve into her arms, sharing a fond, exasperated look with Mycen.  "You weren't planning on settling that duel now?  In my castle, with  _my_ child around?"

"Uhh..." Deen stammers.

"Of course not," Sonya consoles, but Celica and Mycen are both smiling at her lie.  

"Well...we were jus' about to get started when she walked in..." Deen explains.

"Good.  I'll have no fighting in this castle.  Understood?"

"Nooooo fighting!" Eve shakes her little head vigorously and the two mercenaries share a laugh.

"Alright, alright.  We'll get along.  Right, Deen?"

"Right, Sonya."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy! this chapter was actually inspired by http://archiveofourown.org/works/11247198 which is super good please check it out. I'm more familiar with Sonya than Deen, but we'll see. It also??? turned into backstory for Deen and Sonya???? As per usual, spoilers. As per usual, leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed.


	4. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm back," Eve breathes as she steps off the boat, and there's a small congregation waiting for her. Takes place after Remnants of the Holy War. No spoilers for that, though.

Eve remembers the flash of the Book of Naga as it seared a man to death as she wakes up, breathing deeply.  

All...just a dream.  She takes a deep breath and turns onto her side, looking out the window into the night sky as the boat lurches its way towards Valentia.  Gods, it's been...two?  Three years since she left?  Sounds about right.  She's stronger now, stronger than when she left for Jugdral to help Isabelle and the resistance.  But it was over, and the last month had been spent like her first month, on a boat heading towards a distant land.  Eve sits up a bit and leans to the side, peering out the peephole at the moon as it shines brightly over the ocean, waves lapping gently at the sides of the ship.  

She lifts her right hand and a spell tickles at the end of each finger; fire, thunder, aura, excalibur and ragnarok on each digit from pinky to thumb.  She clenches her fist and they go out, and she hardly feels the burn that comes from spellcasting.  She flops down with a puff of air and tosses and turns back to sleep.

* * *

This time when she wakes up it's the feeling of a thousand wounds over two and a half years compiling all at once, aches and tears shooting through her bones.  Eve wakes up with a sharp gasp and fire bursts into life in her hand, her left going for a sword that closes around the Royal Sword.  The blade works its magic and the aches and pains soothe from her weary frame.  She flops back with a sigh and turns her head into a pillar of sunlight that burns straight through her eyelids.

"Dammit all."

* * *

"I'm back," Eve breathes as she steps off the boat, and there's a small congregation waiting for her.  Right at the dock are her parents in their full regalia, and behind them stretches nearly the entire castle and all her friends.  Eve smiles sheepishly as she steps in front of parents and bows, extending their swords back to them.  At the same time, Alm and Celica push the blades out of the way and sweep her into a close, tight hug, and the tears start to fall.  The audience begins to cheer, and Eve is crying into Alm's shoulder.  Alm strokes along his daughter's back soothingly, and Celica is starting to cry as well.

"Welcome home, dear."

"Oh, mother - "

* * *

"Did you know how mad I was?" Alm is pacing back and forth as Eve looks downturn.  After the gushy gunk was over, Alm had pulled his daughter into his study to vent.  Or yell.  Depending on certain circumstances it changed.

"You sent not one letter over the last few years, and your mother and I had no idea whether you were dead or not!  I am so...so..."  Alm putters off as he looks at Eve, and then a smile breaks over his face.

"I am so proud of you, Eve.  I'm older now, and I worry, but you did fantastically.  I got a report from King Leif and Emperor Seliph detailing what you did, and I am...so proud."

"We both are," Celica steps in at this moment, happy that the shouting has finished.  "You are our treasure."

"Mom!" Eve blushes bright red and her two parents laugh.

"You remind me of me when I was your age," Alm muses, sinking into his chair, Celica settling in comfortably next to him (the chair is big for that reason).  "I was your age when I set off with my friends to join the Deliverance.  And, well..."

"And I was around your age as well when I set off on my pilgrimage..." Celica adds.

"That's pretty late from what I hear," Eve comments, "according to Isabelle, her father was fifteen when he first set off to liberate his country."

"Really?  That's...young.  Really young," Alm swallows, "how did he do it?"

"Do you want the full story?"

"Maybe another time.  But I want yours.  What happened?"  Celica leans her elbows onto her knees and Eve begins to talk.

"Ok, so apparently it started a month or so before I got there, but it apparently started in a bar..."

* * *

As soon as Eve had finished her story, Alm had demanded that she face him in another duel, to see how she had progressed, and now the two were locked in heated combat.  They had both chosen iron swords as their weapons in an attempt to even the playing field.  While Alm was a little rusty in his older age, he still was the King of Valentia, He Who Had Slain Two Gods.  

"You've gotten faster!" Alm ducks under a horizontal strike and pivots into a slice of his own, Eve hand-springing back to launch an over head blow.

"Maybe you've gotten slower, old man!" Eve jumps back and runs towards the nearby wall, using it to leap up high and flip into a strike.  Alm parried the blow and Eve's sword went flying, and before a moment passed Alm has his blade at Eve's throat as she holds a hand cradled in ragnarok at his head.  

"Tie?"

"Hell no!"  Ragnarok shifts into excalibur as a whip of green wind shoots at Alm.  He runs to the side, dodging bolts of thunder and fireballs of increasing size.   He braces against an aura of light and charges forward.  Eve spins quickly and freeze bursts from her hand, stopping Alm in his tracks.  She slowly walks forward, clearly enjoying this.  

"Do you yield?" Ragnarok is hovering over Alm's head, and he gulps.  

"Alright, fine.  I yield.  Nicely done."  

* * *

"Hey, dad?  Mom?"  Eve knocks tentatively at the door to Alm's office, and her two parents look up.

"Please, come in.  What's the matter?"

"Well, I was wondering..." Eve gets quiet before her voices raises, "I want to help out as Valentia's ambassador!"

There's silence for a moment as Alm and Celica consider this for a moment.  

"As training, or...?"

"Well, I saw so much of the world during my travels, but I want to see more.  When I'm older I can come back and rule Valentia as is my birthright, but I still think I'm so inexperienced.  I want the struggles you had, the battles you fought.  I want...to forge my own path.  Jugdral was a step.  But...I want more."

"Eve, listen to us.  Neither of us want you to face what we fought.  We faced the hardships we did to ensure you wouldn't have to," Celica says, but she looks pained.  "We want to keep you safe."

"Well, it seems like family tradition to do the opposite of that."  Alm snickers at this and Celica shoots a wry glance at him, a volume of history between them.  

"Actually..." Alm rubs the bottom of his chin as Celica and Eve look expectantly at him.  

"King Marth has recently stretched a hand out to us after a few years of recovery, and other continents around the world have also started reaching out.  We seem to be entering the global scene as of late, and, well...the reports from Jugdral were promising.  You fought well and kept your cool, and you've been taught well.  I have a job for you, Eve.  For the next five years, I hereby designate you as the official representative of Valentia and her One Kingdom, and all the rights and responsibilities unto it."  As Alm talked he began writing, Celica quietly pointing out spelling mistakes.

"I give you all abilities and responsibilities in forging new bonds with the countries and continents of the world.  There will be enemies, but hopefully, friends.  On the eve of your twenty-fifth birthday you shall return.  I don't know how many continents are out there.  But, I have faith in you."  Alm scrawled a loose signature at the end of the writ and stamped his signet ring alongside it, finally looking up at his daughter.  She could see a small tear, but she did not mention it.

"Do you accept?"  

Eve hesitantly reached out towards the paper, locking eyes with her mother.  She had a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye, just like Alm.  Eve sighed and took the quill, dipping it in the inkwell and scrawling her own signature in the space at the bottom.

"So.  Where to first?" Princess Eve, Ambassador to the One Kingdom of Valentia and its First Princess, stood tall as she addressed her parents.  

"East.  East to Archanaea."

* * *

And so, the stories of Lady Eve traveled throughout the world as the continents spread their downy wings and began to soar.  Technology advanced, and people fought, and in the hearts of human- and dragon-kind, the world fought as one.  

* * *

Eve: Level 30 Princess (The Princess of the One Kingdom; rightful inheritor to the throne.  Uses swords and magic)

HP: 48

Str: 32

Mag: 35

Skl: 39 (34 + 5 (Keepsake Ring))

Spd: 31

Lck: 38 (33 + 5 (Keepsake Ring))

Def: 21

Res: 30 (25 + 5 (Keepsake Ring))

Mov: 6

Lead: 2

Sword: A

Magic: /

Learned Magic: Fire, Thunder, Heal, Aura, Excalibur, Physic, Freeze, Rescue, Ragnarok

Inventory: Royal Sword, Beloved Zofia, Keepsake Ring

Skills: Pursuit, Windswept, Vantage, Dragon Fang, Guarded Stance

Holy Blood: Mila, Duma

Help Description: The Valentian ambassador.  Weathered from her travels, but a force of goodness and kindness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyyy. did you know this is the top alm/celica story on ao3? nice.
> 
> Nice.
> 
> STAY TUNED FOR POSSIBLE FUTURE STORIES OF EVE IN OTHER CONTINENTS WHO GIVES A FUCK ABOUT TIMELINES OR CONTINUITIES AHHHHHHHHHH. If i ever do it, it might be in this fic, or in a new document. 
> 
> And as always, please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed!


	5. Deep Breath | Wings | Deep Push | Alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four shorts featuring the side couples (Zeke/Tatiana, Gray/Clair, Clive/Mathilda and Boey/Mae). Zeke/Tatiana is mid-canon and the other three are post-canon.

The winds of Rigel Plain whistle as they blow over Zeke and his forces.  A few meters away the amnesiac can imagine Jerome's eyes roving over him and his band, just  _waiting_ for him to leave his side and join the Deliverance.  Now, it would take a miracle, but nothing comes to mind.  A memory passes by - a blue-haired boy and a blonde woman telling him to stop, and him driving his lance further.  He shakes his head as he spies the Deliverance's banner, a boy in blue armor at its lead.  It must be the Deliverance's leader, Alm.  Something about the hair pulls another memory but he drives it off before it can reach fruition.

And then, there's a fluttering of magic, and off in the distance he spies a woman in white, teal hair fluttering in the distance.

"Ah, Zeke!  It's you!"  Tatiana, his sweet Tatiana waves energetically from across the river, her voice traveling over the plain and into his ears.

"Tatiana?  But how?!"  He can't keep the surprise out of his voice, and the bow knight on his right-hand side jerks his head up, awaiting orders.

"I was saved by the Deliverance.  Do you know what this means?  It means you don't have to heed another word Jerome says!"

Zeke exhales a sigh of relief, "Thank you, Tatiana.  Now you have saved me as well."  He closes his eyes for a brief moment as he gathers his thoughts.  "Men!  Set your sights on the target!  We march on Jerome's army!  Prepare to attack!"

"You dare?!" Jerome snarls as he urges his horse into a gallop, cutting through his own army as he charges towards Zeke.  "I didn't think you fool enough to betray me, Ezekiel.  You know what fate awaits the girl now that - "

"She's free.  And now, so am I," Zeke draws his lance, a simple narrow thing, elegant in its purpose.  He cants faster, he and Jerome circling.  "You've ground the people here under heel and threatened my love.  Prepare to answer for your crimes!"

"Yah!  Come, Jerome!  Let's see if that posturing of yours has any merit!"  Zeke breaks the circle to charge forward, Jerome turning back and retreating as his forces fill the gap, swords pressing towards Zeke's horse.  There's a flash of light and Tatiana is  _there_ , a burst of Seraphim erupting from her rod and topping an archer from his horse.  Zeke pulls and turns, grabbing Tatiana up and into the saddle.

"Are you alright, dearest?"  Zeke leans down to ask, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

"I-I'm fine," she replies shakily, although a blush heavily tints her cheeks.  "I just wasn't expecting you to do...that.  I thought I'd fall off!"

"Never.  Now, stay close, sweet Tatiana.  It's time to prove my worth!"

"And I'll be right beside you."

"Tatiana, please - "

"Nope."  She pressed a kiss to his lips and slides off his horse as he slows, marginally.  "Now go!  I know you can do it!"

Zeke salutes with his lance and gallops, breaking through Jerome's army's line.  He smashes men off of horses, splinters bows with his lance.  Eventually he makes it to Jerome as a healing spell washes over him.

"Now, Jerome.  Face me.  If you have the steel."

"Why, you!"  Jerome charges now, pivoting at the last moment to kick with the back legs of his horse, and Zeke smiles.  With Jerome's back turned, Zeke steps out of the saddles and stands up, crouching.  With a burst of energy he leaps at Jerome's turned back, bringing his lance to bear.  The two men go flailing off, Zeke landing heavily on Jerome.  Zeke rolls off and discards the broken lance, shattered through Jerome's armor and draws a sword.  The two men begin circling again, Jerome spinning his lance suspiciously.  He moves to throw it but catches it underhand, lunging deeper than suggests in his armor.  Another memory flickers through Zeke's mind, of subordinates trying similar moves and he grimaces, spinning his sword down in a parry.

Zeke closes in, lightning-fast strikes pressing at Jerome's edges.  With a burst of speed and strength, Jerome's lance shatters and the general stands dazed, as Zeke runs him through.

"That's what you get," Zeke whispers in Jerome's ear, "when you treat others like you are better than them!"  He rips out his sword and Jerome topples.  Zeke stands dazed until he feels a soothing hand running along his back and a poking at his shoulder.  The hand is Tatiana's, and the poking is his horse.  He rubs his horse's head for a few moments before taking Tatiana in his arms, wary of the bloodstains on his shirt front.

"Are you alright, Tatiana?"

"I'm fine.  Now that we're here, I'm fine."

* * *

Gray sits on his cot, idly tossing a small box up and down.  He and Clair had been going steady for a while now, almost as long as Alm and Celica have, but he's been...nervous lately.  It's a big commitment.  In his mind's eye he can still see Clair, so happy and free on her pegasus, soaring through the skies.  He wanted to capture that smile in the ring, that and how he felt about her.  

"Wake up, idiot.  Training's soon," And Tobin ruins the moment, once again.  He smacks Gray's head with the back of his quiver as he walks by, bow in hand as he makes his way out.

"Yeah, yeah.  You just want to be out there first to try to prove yourself again, huh?"

"Shut up."

Gray stretches lazily, tucking the small velvet box under the mattress and picking up his sword.  Practice is always a good way to spend the time, work on his sword.

That...didn't come out properly.

Neither did that.

Ugh.

-

Hours later, Gray slumps into the barracks and heads for his bed.  Training was brutal today, since Alm decided to show up and show off just how cool he was.  In between that and the fresh Zofian recruits that wanted training in the Mercenary style, he was pooped.  His hand goes under his mattress and a frown crosses his face when he can't find the box.

"Hey, Tobin."

"Uwah?" Tobin groans from his cot, not looking up.

"You seen the box?"

"Wha box?"

"The one with the ring, idiot!"

"Hey, you're the idiot!  I haven't seen it since you hid it!"

"Urgh!  Fine."  Gray pushes himself up and frowns.  "I'm going to ask around, see if I can find anything."

"Okay..."

-

It's close to midnight and  _still_ no dice on the box.  Or the ring.  He spent hours scouring from the bowels of the castle to the tallest spire of Rigel Castle, and nothing.  Even Celica, in her infinite wisdom, didn't know.

Buncha morons.  He heaves a large breath and decides on one last action.

-

"Hey, Clair.  Can I come in?"  Gray knocks hesitantly at Clair's door, a frown on his face.

"Gray?  Is that you?  Please, come in!"  Gray sighs and enters.

"What's the matter?  You usually have some comment on the state of my room."  Clair's right.  Her room is usually a mess, armor and dresses and lances scattered about, but this time Gray has no comment on that.

"Sorry, Clair.  It's just...I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Look, I really screwed up.  I had a ring, and..."

"A ring?!"

"Yeah?"

Clair smiles and moves to her desk, covered in orders and notes.  She reaches under and pulls out a drawer, pulling out a familiar velvet box.

"Hey, where'd you - "

"Tobin gave it to me.  He thought it'd be funny."

"Wait - what?  Tobin?  The oblivious one?  Gods, that's - "

"Gray."

"Yeah?"  He finally looks up from his shoes as Clair puts her hand to his face.  "I'd be delighted to marry you.  It's a beautiful ring."

"Oh!  Wow!" Gray trails off into a laugh, flush spreading down his neck.  "I-I mean I had this whole fancy evening planned out, and it involved the moon, and - " He's silenced as she kisses him firmly, pulling him flush against her.

"Less talking," she murmurs, "more...other things."

"Oh?" Gray cheekily raises an eyebrow.

"Not like that!  Just help me put the ring on!"  Gray bites his lip as Clair extends her hand, and he slides the ring onto her left ring finger.  It's simple but gorgeous, a silver band with a twinkling blue gem as its piece, light like the sky on a sunny day.

"It's...beautiful."

"You already said that.  Ow!"  

"Gray..."

"I know.  I love you too."

* * *

"CLIIIIIIVE!"  Mathilda's voice echoes through the hallway and the knight panics in response.  A maid sticks her head out the doorway and looks at Clive.

"I believe milady requested your presence, sir."

"I know.  Just wanted to gather my breath first."

The maid nods and retreats as Mathilda screams again.  Clive takes a deep breath and shakes his head, fortifying himself before he heads in.  When he does, it looks like a war zone.  Mathilda is surrounded by nursemaids and saints as they try to walk her through giving birth, but it seems like she'll do it her way.

"How's my valkyrie doing?" Clive tries to soothe but the look she sends could send a weaker man to his grave.

"I'm going to fucking kill you Clive if you don't come over here right now!"  He blanches and runs over, taking her hand in his.  She has a vice grip and her face pales at what she's said.

"Oh, my love, I'm so sorry - "

"Shh.  Just breathe.  I'm right here.  I'm always going to be right beside you, my love."

"Clive, it hurts - "

"Please, Dame Mathilda, just push on our count.  One, two, three, push!"  The saint cries, interrupting the two.  They both look down as Mathilda squeezes even harder.

There are a few more moments of screaming and crying, and then a baby's high wail joins the chorus of voices, and the others hush.

"It's a boy!" The saint cries as the maids rush in to clean the baby and mother, Clive holding Mathilda tight to his chest.

"It's over, and we did it."

"'We'?  I just pushed a baby out of me, my heart.  All me."

"Well..."

"Just shut up.  Please, let me see my baby!"  Mathilda implores and a maid passes the baby to her.  He's small and pale, a tuft of blond hair at the top of his head.

"Look at him.  I made this.   _We_ made this."  Mathilda sighs as she brings him to her breast and he starts feeding, Mathilda letting out a soft chuckle.  Clive bends down to press a kiss to the crown of Mathilda's head, but an arm shoots out to pull his collar to bring his lips to her.  They're both crying now, because they're parents, and there is a gift in Mathilda's lap that they never saw coming.

"So, my sweet.  What shall we name him?" Clive asks, pulling Mathilda closer.  

"I was thinking...Fernand."

"A good name.  I think, if he's watching...he'd be proud."

"I hope so.  So, Fernand.  Welcome to the world."  

The baby quiets for a moment, and smiles.

* * *

"You know, Boey.  I think we're doing alright."  Mae is relaxing in a chair, reading, a book resting on her enlarged stomach.  Boey peers over his glasses (that fact had gotten him teased for years, and in Mae's opinion it  _was so worth it_ ).  In the distance, over the sea and surf outside Novis Priory they hear Irene and Gregory playing on the beach, some kind of clapping game that involves magic.  If Mae closes her eyes she can still see Irene's tuft of white-gray hair and Gregory's pink fluttering in the breeze.

"Alright?  What's wrong this time?"  Boey puts aside his book as he settles in his chair, getting into his argument-ready stance.

"Nothing's wrong!  Actually, your bad attitude is what's wrong, you boob!"

"Really?  That name again?  What are you, five?"

"No, I'm Mae!  And your wife!"

"That was bad and we both know it."  Boey takes a moment to take off his glasses and rub his eyes.

"No, it was hilarious!  Look, you've made the babies angry!"

"Babies?  As in plural?"

"Uh, duh?  Have you seen someone  _this big_ before?"

"Yeah, you when you were pregnant with Gregory."  Boey has picked up his book again, pretending to look disinterested, but Mae ignores it and plows through.

"Oh, shut up!  Look, even Nomah said it was twins and the old man's hardly wrong."

"You just don't want to bet on whether it's a boy or a girl again since you lost both times, and this time you're betting on both."

"Well there's the possibility of two boys or two girls as well!"

There's silence for a few moments before the two break into laughter for a few moments.  It dies after a few seconds, and silence stretches over the two for a quiet moment.

"You think there's something wrong with us?"  Boey breaks the silence this time.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's just...all three times it's been the same thing.  We get mad at each other, we kiss and make up, fall into bed, and nine months later...pop!"

"That's gross and we both know it."

"Shut it and let me finish.  I mean, look at Alm and Celica!  Or all their friends.  Stable, normal, happy.  Are we that?"

"You know..." Mae stands up and walks over to Boey, sitting on him as he lets out a pained whoosh of air.

"I know we're not stable.  Or normal.  Gods, we're two mages who traveled the continent!  But...I'm happy.  Especially if you're happy.  You think I would let you - "

"That's gross and we both know it."  Boey echoes Mae's words as he scowls, but Mae stands up off of him and tilts his chin up to look at her.

"Exactly.  You're such a dummy, Boey.  Du-Boey.  Bo-dummy.  Bummy!  Haha!  I'm hilarious!"

"Mae - "

"Shush or eat lightning, sweetheart."

"Of course, dearest.  Now sit down before you give me a headache."  Boey scoots his chair closer to Mae's and stretches out a hand towards her, which she graciously takes in her own.

"I love you, Mae," Boey doesn't look up from his book as he reads, glasses flashing.

"I love you too, Boey."  Mae doesn't look up from her book either.  But they both know the other is smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was partially out of a need to write something cute for Zeke/Tatiana but also because i could. You know the deal. Please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed! EDIT: added an explanation in the gray/clair part.

**Author's Note:**

> How'd you like it? Please leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed! A lot of this just came naturally after Ao3 deleted my progress the first time i tried writing this. Enjoy the cameos from Leif and Nanna. I don't even have the game yet and I love Alm/Celica. Anyway. The land Kliff goes to (the one with no name) is Hoshido/Nohr but IS never gave us the name of the continent. Along with other things like actual backstory. EDIT: changed the daughter's name. Added a small scene after the wedding.


End file.
